


Friends In Low Places

by atypicalelias



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: F/F, F/M, I'm Bad At Summaries, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Biphobia, LGBT, M/M, Slow Burn, Strap in folks I'm in it for the long haul, Swearing a lot of it, Teen Angst, We Gay Babey!, mild violence, more tags as i write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23853847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atypicalelias/pseuds/atypicalelias
Summary: Good morning, world. Today is going to be like every other. Boring as fuck.At least that's what Oliver thought the morning of his first day of school in a brand new city.But would everything be what he expects?
Relationships: Original Character/Connor Murphy, Original Character/Jared Kleinman
Kudos: 4





	1. New Beginnings

Good morning, world. Today is going to be like every other. Boring as fuck. 

Moving to Rochester has been possibly the most exciting thing to happen in my life, and yet, it’s probably the most boring city I have ever been to. I mean, it isn’t less interesting than Portland, Maine, but its unfamiliarity doesn’t excite me one bit. Maybe I’m just biased and pissed that we had to move in the first place. I have no one but myself to blame for that, I suppose. A quick word of advice; don’t come out as bisexual to your homophobic English teacher in an essay about Shakespeare. 

Mom sent me an article after two weeks of me only leaving the house to go to the closest coffee shop or nearby skatepark. “30 things to do in Rochester, New York,” it was titled. One of those tourist trapping websites, y’know? “Here’s 30 things for you and your shitty family to forget about in a few weeks.” I appreciate her effort, and I’m sure she’ll drag me along to one of the various ice cream shops or goofy tourist shops, but I’d rather stick to what I know. Drinking caffeine and being alone.

“Breakfast is ready, Olive!” I hear my mom call out from outside my bedroom door. Ugh, ‘Olive’, I don’t know why she still calls me that silly nickname. It wouldn’t be that hard to call me by my real name, you just have to remember the ‘r’ at the end. But, she’s a nostalgic one, so I decide not to complain this time.

“I’ll be out in a sec!” 

“When you do, you better be dressed for school, not the skatepark!”

“I am, ma!” I yell back, and quickly let out a sigh as I adjust myself in front of my dusty floor length mirror. It’s probably the only thing in my room with dust in it, which is nice; makes the new house feel lived in. Is my outfit normal enough for you, Rochester? God, I hope so. My black, scratched but not holey, cuffed jeans and borrowed band t-shirt were sure to be normal, right? (I’m still not sure what the T-shirt is supposed to say. My uncle says that the band was the best he’d ever seen. But unfortunately, he never said the band name out loud, and the shirt is hardly legible because of how worn in it is.)  
Jesus, I’m looking way too deep into this. Just decide on an outfit already, Oliver! Alright, I guess this will do. I pull on my dark army green flannel before I grab my loose black hoodie. Layers help you blend in right? No one will look at the kid wearing too many shirts for how surprisingly hot it is for August in the north. Fuck, who am I kidding, these kids probably all grew up together. I am going to be stared at all day.

Correction, World, today is going to be absolute shit. 

I don’t have to wonder what mom made for breakfast as I open my bedroom door. I breathe in the smell of sweet cinnamon rolls, and can’t help but let a small smile appear on my face. She was definitely bribing me with these, they smell so good I might just give in, but I still do not want to go to school today.

“Awe! Look at you, no holes in your clothes, a smile on your face!” Mom muses as she rushes past me, her brightly coloured scrubs almost burning my eyes, in the narrow hallway of our new home, “Looks like someone is ready for school!”

“You are way too cheery for this early in the morning,” I groan, shaking my head, “But nice try, I’d rather take a bus back to Maine.”

“Oliver, you’re going to school,” I hear her chide from the kitchen. Her voice was stern but still cheery, she knows I’m going to listen to her and go to school no matter how much I protest. I don’t tell her enough but I think she might be the best mom in the universe. She doesn’t get everything, but she understands me better than anyone else I’ve ever met. I guess single parenting will do that, she has no one else to compete with when it comes to the favourite parent.

“Why would I do that?” I have to protest, even though we both know the truth, it’s within my teenage rights. Making my way through the halfway unpacked house was a lot like an obstacle course, where there weren’t boxes there were random piles of bubble wrap and packing paper. Luckily we finished unpacking the kitchen and living room last week, and my room is almost finished. My mother and I were very similar in our strategy of unpacking the house, a box a day if we were both home, bedrooms as fast as possible. Now the reasons for this were totally different, of course. She wants unpacking to be a bonding experience, I want unpacking to not be my problem. 

The kitchen was bigger than our last one, nicer too. The generic white tile and walls went well with the pinkish granite and coordinating silver appliances. Mom was excited that the fridge was bigger, said she’d be able to freeze some dinners for me when she’s on the night shift and we could get a second Brita pitcher. Exciting, right? 

“I don’t know, you wanna go to college, right? Maybe you can focus on your grades,” She responds to me as I grab one of those sticky rolls of heaven she made. I took a big bite and shake my head dramatically.

“Grades,” I scoff, giving her an unimpressed look as I sarcastically argue with her, “You’re getting so much better at convincing me to do the things I hate.”

“And you’re getting better at getting on my last nerve!” She laughs and ruffles my messy mop of black curls with her small hands. I let out a small chuckle, she’s having a good morning, I shouldn’t screw it up by complaining about school.

“Excited for work today?” I ask, might as well boost her mood with some false curiosity. Maybe I should be genuinely curious, but I already know how excited she is. Her first day of actual work in a brand new hospital. I can’t tell if she’s more excited about meeting new people or that I have a strong chance of not showing up in the ER while she’s working. Again.

“I’d be even more excited if my son would tell me that he’s gonna have a great day at school today,” Her bright smile and teasing tone are enough to convince me.

“Fine, I’m gonna go to school,” I grumble, but her proud reaction is enough to make me laugh and I swiftly break the facade. I don’t have the heart to be sad around her anymore. Not after this summer.

\---------

Although my mom warned against it, saying “Too many schools have rules against Skateboards, Olive, you should take the bus,” I skated my way to school. Even though there was nothing interesting to see, it’s better to have the wind blowing in my face as I speed through the surprisingly busy suburban streets than to be stuck on a bus full of sweaty assholes. 

The ride to school wasn’t long, it was too short in my opinion. Mom picked the perfect location, close to a coffee shop, close to school and close to the hospital. A central location for the two of us to meet after an exhausting day to relax and watch a shitty movie. My earbuds were stuffed in my ears, blasting some loud and angry song I forgot the name of. Hopefully, that can help me get through today. Knowing that I can go home and relax after this, and I could just listen to music all day instead of talking to people

The entrance awning was a busy spot for freshman and their parents, a few of them were helping their kids get situated and I’m pretty I just saw that mom take a selfie with her kid. Blegh, why would anyone do that?

I pushed open a door that was far away from the busy group of parents and teachers, entering the even busier school. Well, it wasn’t that busy, it’s not that bigger than Portland, but it was still a lot of students. I nervously grip my board closer to my side as I notice a few students eyeing me. I quickly averted my attention to the task at hand, find the main office. It was a simple task, the door to the office was on the wall adjacent to me. I could see the receptionist ignoring a girl with big glasses and long black braids pulled into a ponytail. She looked too young to be a teacher, and she dresses almost younger than some of the freshman I saw outside. She was definitely a student.

When I pulled the door open I pulled my earbuds out, only to hear a feminine gasp, the room was filled with an awkward silence as the door shut behind me. The aforementioned receptionist rolled her eyes and the girl took a few steps to stand in front of you.

“You must be the new kid! I’m Alana,” Her flashing teeth stood out against her soft-looking dark skin, “Alana Beck.”

“Oliver,” I answer, unamused with her cheeriness, I can only handle my mom’s brand of perkiness in the morning. This Alana dressed casual but smart, but not smart in a fashion way, smart in a nerdy, speech and debate way. 

“Mr.Anderson is out today, so I’m the student volunteer who will be showing you around the school today! I have your schedule and orientation files since you missed it last week!” So. Goddamn. Cheery. I wanted to take the bright yellow folder out of her hands and tell her that I can find my own way around the school. She says something about putting my skateboard away at the bike rack, but I didn’t catch all of it. 

This is going to be a long, long first day.


	2. Busy Busy Busy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey! Connor,” A slightly nasally voice that I can recognize interrupts, “I’m loving the new hair length. Very school shooter chic. Is the transfer your accomplice?”
> 
> Oliver meets a lot of new people, and he'd love to un-meet them. Today is full of new people, new classes, a new school and new problems. But the day still has more to offer, doesn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one, fellas. Strap in, it's kinda a roller coaster.

Alana Beck is the total opposite of me. She’s short, dons a bright and slightly outdated outfit, and she cares way too much about school. She’s been talking this entire time but I’ve only listened to bits and pieces. I’m pretty sure she’s going on about some anecdote about English class? I look at the schedule of my classes she handed to me earlier. It wasn’t anything interesting. English first period, history second, science third and then…Library assistance? Hm, maybe I won’t have to skip all of my classes after all, how bad could sorting books be?

“Here’s your locker, it seems to be a pretty central location, it’s close to all of your classes and the front office,” Alana leads me through a group of students, I ignore the gawking for now. I notice a boy wearing a blue striped polo leaning down at the water fountain next to my locker. His backpack was tight around his torso, like he’s worried it’ll fall off, and his arm which is partially covered by a bright white cast hangs at his side.

“I’ll let you get your locker ready and then we can continue the tour,” I nod my head at her, and pretend to use my locker, even going the length to open it. I don’t mind abrasive or talkative people, but it was far too early in the morning for me to be around a new, alarmingly cheery person. 

“How was your summer?” I watched Alana startle the water-fountain boy, his wide brown eyes gave away his surprise. It was like he was being spoken to for the first time, he didn’t know how to react.

“M-my summer?”

“Mine was productive, I did three internships and ninety hours of community service, I know: wow.” She doesn’t even let the boy answer her question.

“Yeah, wow, that’s really impressive..”

“Even though I was so busy, I made plenty of great friends. Well, acquaintances, more like.” Alana’s words are strong and confident, it’s almost annoying, but I admire her passion. The boy says something that I couldn’t quite make out over the loud chatter of my new classmates. He looks how I feel. Like he’s being approached by a predator at the watering hole, she’s a lion but he’s just a measly little badger, she won’t hurt him but it sure feels like she might. I watch him hold out his casted arm, and Alana is quick to gasp loudly.

“Oh my god, what happened to your arm?”

This was my chance, she was totally distracted by this kid’s broken arm. I’m sure I can find english class by myself. I gently shut my locker and walk past Alana and the polo kid I don’t know the name of. She didn’t seem to notice yet. Alright, Oliver, just find room 107 and you’re good. Jesus, this school is literally packed with kids, I didn’t realize Rochester had such a high population. There’s so many of them. Don’t look in their eyes.

I’m speed walking at this point, anything to avoid the stares of all these people who’ve probably known each other since kindergarten. At least it’s not the kids I knew since kindergarten. Fuck those guys. 

\----

I’ll spare you the details of navigating the busy halls and my first two boring classes. The most interesting thing that happened isn’t something I even want to remember. Some asshole thought it’d be funny to laugh and call me “Connor” after my brand new english teacher introduced me to the class. The rest of the class laughed too. I decided to not listen to anyone else’s names after that. They don’t wanna learn my name? That’s fine, I won’t learn theirs either.

As I pushed open the doors to the cafeteria, I quickly realized that it looked like it was straight out of a cheesy high school romcom. There were distinct groups sat at the various booths and circular tables. Nerds, jocks, band kids, the popular kids. I’m not sure why I came here, I’m too on edge to eat lunch and I don’t have anywhere to sit anyways. Maybe I can go hideout in a computer lab or the library. 

“Oliver! Where did you go earlier?” Alana ran over to me from whatever table I hadn’t noticed her sitting at. Shit, how did I not think of this happening?

“I went to class. You seemed preoccupied,” I shrugged, hoping for her to just leave it at that.

“Well, I still have to finish your tour of the school,” She sighs, clearly annoyed with my flakiness, and crosses her arms, “Otherwise, Mr Anderson will have to give you the tour tomorrow. He definitely won’t stop to let you use your locker.”

“Who’s Mr Anderson?”

“Like I said earlier, he’s the school’s guidance counsellor, he told me that he’d be seeing you a lot due to the nature of how you left your old school,” Alana answers, not bothering to show her annoyance anymore.

“Wait, he told you why I left my old school?” I couldn’t help the anger in my voice, I hadn’t even met this guy yet and he’s already telling students that I was- nevermind. I don’t have anything to worry about unless she confirms that she knows.

“No, of course not!” Alana reassures me, nervously, “He just said that it was serious. Let me finish giving the tour after lunch, it’ll be fun, trust me!”

I watch Alana go sit back down, to my surprise she sits down at a booth, all alone. Maybe I misjudged her, but she was still way too cheery in the mornings for my taste. Alright, I need to get out of here, cafeterias are hell for people like me. I begin to walk towards the doors on the opposite side of the cafeteria, which in hindsight I shouldn't have done, I can feel eyes on me. I avoid the student body's terrifying gaze once again, my eyes glued to the dusty tiled floor. Another stupid idea on my behalf, as I am quick to run into a tall figure that smells like an almost overbearing mix of weed and a musky spray deodorant. 

“Shit! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” I hurl out my words, anxiety washing over me as I look up to see who I ran into. Holy shit. My eyes are met with deep blue ones that have a hint of brown in the left. He’s taller than me by a few inches, he’s slim and I’m pretty sure I’d cut myself on his jawline. His hair is a shoulder-length curly brown mess, but it seems to suit him. His clothes were awfully similar to mine, just slightly more faded, and the only colour I could find on him was his army green messenger bag.

“Watch where you’re going, new kid.” He spits out, his voice is angry but it isn’t loud. He seems pissed off with the entire world, not just me; the kid who ran face-first into him. 

“I’m so-”

“Hey! Connor,” A slightly nasally voice that I can recognize interrupts, and I look to see the asshole from english class. His turtle shell glasses and greased back hair match his weird fashion sense of a short-sleeved button-up, graphic t-shirt, and shorts. He smirks as he continues speaking, “I’m loving the new hair length. Very school shooter chic. Is the transfer your accomplice?”

The boy I had just run into, Connor, was dead silent. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the assholes lame attempt at a joke. I look to see the polo kid from earlier, he hasn’t changed a bit, still strikingly anxious-looking. 

“I was kidding, it was a joke.”

“Yeah, no, I’m laughing, can’t you tell?” Connor deadpans, but when I turn to see his face it’s full of hidden emotion. He’s bottling everything up, and considering how he talked to me earlier, the bottle will burst. “Am I not laughing hard enough for you?”

“You’re such a freak,” The asshole shakes his head, a nervous laugh escaping him before he swiftly walks away, leaving his anxious polo-wearing companion behind. The boy lets out an uncomfortable laugh, I’m unsure why I’m still standing here. 

“What the fuck are you laughing at?”

“What?”

“Stop fucking laughing at me,” Connor's voice is assertive but I can hear the emotions bubbling to the top, the other boy begins to object, but Connor continues, his voice becoming rougher with emotion as he speaks, “You think I’m a freak? I’m not the freak. You’re the fucking freak!”

I watch as Connor pushes the other boy to the ground and runs out of the cafeteria. Shiiiiiit. Everyone is staring at us. It’s just me and the polo boy on the stage now. I can feel myself begin to panic, what the fuck am I going to do? I didn’t come here to settle altercations, I just wanted to get this school bullshit over with. I decide quickly, a split-second decision to not run away. 

I quickly help the polo boy up, he seems too stunned to realize what’s happening but I manage to help him to his feet. “Are you alright- uh sorry- I don’t know your name?”

“Oh, I’m fine, uh, it’s- I’m Evan,” He responds, sounding just as nervous as he was before he was pushed to the ground. 

“I’m Oliver. Nice to meet you, Evan,” I give him a single nod, a small greeting, before walking backward towards the doorway, “Sorry, but I gotta go.”

I push my back against the door, opening it, and swiftly turn to walk through the bare hallways of the school. I look for Connor as I rush through the halls. Where would I go if I had just been called a school shooter and pushed a kid with a broken arm down to the ground? Probably the bathroom, no one is ever in the bathrooms at school. They’re either too dirty or the teachers never let you go. It's a good place to check.

\---

The men's bathroom is dingy, but not terrible, it has a few stalls and urinals, sinks and cheap mirrors. It smells normal, with just a hint of smoke. It's a high school bathroom, what more can I say? I walk in just as someone is leaving the very last stall, and based on the black boots and monochromatic clothing to match, it was just who I was looking for.

“Jesus Christ, what? Come to fuck with me some more?” Connor was instantly defensive, I didn’t even have time to walk towards a stall, it was funny that he immediately thought I was there to torment him. Well, funny in the sense that it’d be ironic. I could’ve been there to use the bathroom, but no, the bullied bullying the bullied, the ultimate crossover.

“Nope,” I really hope my voice is as calm as I want it to be, “I wanted to see if you were okay?”

Connor scoffs and moves to the sink to watch his hands. I just stand and watch as he quickly but furiously scrubs his hands, rinses them and grabs some paper towels. He dries his hands and tosses the now balled up pieces of paper towel into the trash can. I don’t realize that I’m blocking the entrance until Connor is towering over me. (As much as one who is only a few inches taller than you can tower over you) 

“Well?” I ask him, deciding that now is not the time to back down.

“Why do you care?”

“I just do,” I shrug. I examine Connor's face, his eyes hold many emotions but mainly he just looks confused. There’s a silence between the two of us, and I’m hoping that he says something soon because this staring contest is starting to get awkward.

“Look, I know we know nothing about each other, I just have a feeling that what just happened in the cafeteria isn’t the first time something like that has happened,” I sigh, opening up to a stranger is the last thing I expected to do today, “I just wanted to see if you were okay, cause I’ve been there before. It isn’t fun, feeling like everyone thinks you’re a freak. But we aren’t freaks.”

My words are met with more silence, but at least he looks less confused, “I hope you know that, Connor. Anyways, uh... I’ve got science class and I’m pretty sure lunch is almost over anyway. See ya.”

I turn to leave the bathroom, but a voice stops me, “Wait.”

I look back at Connor, who seems to be contemplating his actions, “Uh, thanks, new kid.”

“No problem,” I offer him a tight-lipped smile, which quickly fades as I walk out of the bathroom. Why did I do that? I don’t want to make friends, especially if it’s with the bullied kid, that’s just asking for trouble. Hopefully, he’ll forget about that, and I can just go back to being the new kid that no one knows anything about and has never talked to.

\----

So far, I don’t hate my science class. The teacher, Mrs Dubinski, was a short, thin older woman full of attitude. She’s made the whole class laugh a few times already, except for me and the girl sat next to me. I’ve caught her glancing over at me a few times, her name is Zoe, or at least that’s what she answered to when Dubinski was taking attendance.

Zoe reminds me of the girls I knew back in Portland. Like she’d laugh at me if I said something slightly out of the ordinary like she’d roll her eyes if I complimented her. Maybe I’m just ill experienced with girls that look like her. Long brown hair, just mascara and a basic lipgloss for makeup, a casual but still pretty fashion-forward style, organized notebooks and a cutesy pencil case. She seems… too perfect.

“Alright class, just so that you’re aware, we will be having multiple labs throughout the semester. We will also have a major group project that you will start working on next and will be due at the end of the semester,” Mrs Dubinski addressed the class seriously, “Before you get too excited, your partner for both the project and the lab procedures will be the person next to you.”

I groan internally, realizing that the only other person sat at this two-person table is Zoe. This means I’m gonna have to talk to her, and I’m gonna have to get her phone number so we can work on this stupid project, and she’s going to judge the fuck out of me.

“Hey,” I heard a whisper come from the girl beside me, “I’m Zoe, you’re the new transfer student, right?”

I glance at her and then look away, whispering my sarcastic response, “No, I’ve lived here my whole life, we went to elementary school together.”

“You’re funny,” She looks at me, her head tilted, her voice is almost condescending, “I saw you with my brother earlier, before he pushed that kid Evan. You should stay away from him, he’s kind of a psychopath.”

I’m pretty surprised that little miss perfect beside me is actually related to Connor. My eyebrows almost knit together in confusion, “You call your own brother a psychopath? I’m good to form my own opinions, thank you.”

“Suit yourself,” Zoe scoffs. The bell rings and I am the first to jump out of my seat and walk out the door of the classroom. Just one more class, Oliver, then you can go home. I was honestly kind of excited for this class, there’s no way library assistance would have many students. Jesus, is there something wrong with me? I’m excited for a class where I’m gonna be sorting books for an hour.

\----

Turns out, I had nothing to be excited for. The librarian is a total tool. Apparently I am the only student in this library assistance class and the librarian really doesn’t want any assistance. So he sent me to the computer lab across the hall to untangle wires. Fun, I know. Lucky for me, there weren’t many wires to untangle so now I’m just sitting at the main desk of the computer lab listening to music through my earbuds.

The main desk was at the very back of the room, giving its occupant a clear view of the two rows of computers against the walls of the room. It’s slightly off-center but is across from the solid wooden door of the room. An added bonus to the desk is that it has the only swivel chair. (I like being able to roll around the room, okay?) There are various posters on the walls of keyboard shortcuts and pictures of famous computer engineers. I might as well become familiar with this room, I have a feeling I’ll be spending plenty of time here.

Maybe this “class” won’t be too bad. I don’t have to talk to anyone, I don’t have to do much work, I can just relax by myself. Okay, maybe not relax… I hold my hand out in front of my face, just to see, and it’s shaking. I can’t say I’m surprised, today has been going by so fast, I almost can’t keep up. So what if I’m on edge? It’s my first day at a new school, I think I’m allowed to be anxious.

The final bell of the day blares and I pull my earbuds out. I can already hear the crowd in the hallway, and I am glad I stopped at my locker to collect my things already. I stand up from the comfortable swivel chair, pulling my backpack onto my shoulders. Finally, freedom.

I hear the doorknob begin to slowly turn, I have no doubt that I look like a deer in the headlights right now. Rationally, I know that if a teacher walks in I won’t be in trouble because I was sent here but if a student walks in… What the fuck am I supposed to do? Just leave anyway? That would look weird. “Oh look, the new kid is a total freak who hides in the computer lab and then runs away when people look at him.”

I do the only thing I can think of. I hide myself underneath the desk, a wooden panel making me invisible. I hear the door close and open, then footsteps, a chair scraping lightly against the floor, and they begin to type at one of the computers. They’re awfully close to me, I hope they don’t take long. I really need to get out of here.

I hear the door open and close once again, but a little quieter. Once again, footsteps, a chair being pulled out, but this time… a phone rings. I assume it was either answered or rejected because the ringing quickly stops.

“It’s fine, I’ll take the bus,” I hear a person speak, finally, sounding disappointed. Their voice was a little familiar, out of the few people I talked to today. They give a few one-word answers before continuing, “Yeah, no, I already finished it. I’m in the computer lab right now, printing it out.”

Fuck, I’m so nervous. What if they come over here? What if they see me? What if I make a noise? Why didn’t I just leave the room?!

“Yeah, it was… it was great.” Whatever they’re referring to, they aren’t very convincing. Please hurry up mystery people, I’d love to go home now. “Bye.”

The phone call ends, and I hear far-away typing. It’s slow, but sharp, at first. They quickly find their rhythm, typing away. I am going to be stuck here way longer than I want, I can feel it. The room is filled with three people who don’t seem to be fully aware of the other’s presence. I hear the printer and then footsteps, the steps are careful the person is hesitant.

“So,” Another voice can be heard, it's deeper, but another sort of familiar one, “What happened to your arm?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Shout out to my fellow sock, this one's for you


End file.
